


keep with me forward (all through the night)

by OtterAndTerrier



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pre-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Resolved Sexual Tension, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, one of those very long one-shots with a song title in lowercase and parentheses, this is my writer's pinnacle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterAndTerrier/pseuds/OtterAndTerrier
Summary: A month ago, Han and Leia kissed as part of an undercover mission. Now, they have to work together again to infiltrate an upscale masquerade gala for a data exchange with a spy for the rebellion. After convincing themselves that the kisses meant nothing, can they uphold their promise to be just friends? | Sequel to "Jooni and Doré"
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 30
Kudos: 98
Collections: General Joy





	keep with me forward (all through the night)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Jooni and Doré](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202589) by [OtterAndTerrier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterAndTerrier/pseuds/OtterAndTerrier). 



> My submission for the **A Prompt By Another Name Fanworks Anthology** hosted by [The Fanfic Awakens](https://thefanficawakens.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. The challenge was to pick a couture outfit as a prompt and feature it in the story. My prompt was **19\. Wreathed Gala** ([Leia’s dress](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8f/29/90/8f299048718664c9946c3bd60b89bd28.jpg) | [Han’s outfit](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/20/d0/97/20d0976e7b7eb499f332ff94c834e241.jpg)). I’ve been working on this piece for months so I'm excited to finally share it - and it’s also one of my longest fics!
> 
> You don't need to read [Jooni and Doré](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202589) to understand this fic as a standalone piece (but it's appreciated if you do, of course).
> 
> Thanks a lot to the mods for organizing this, and to **[lajulie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lajulie/pseuds/lajulie)** for her valuable help and support.

When Leia thought she wanted to be considered an equal, to mingle with her fellow soldiers, she definitely did not mean it like _this_.

‘So, how would you rate Han Solo’s kissing skills?’ 

Like everyone was allowed to get all up in her business, especially in a ‘fresher on a Monday at five in the morning.

The woman, black hair pulled into a short braid, orange fatigues, leaned over the sink conspiratorially.

Befuddled at the presumption of the question, Leia simply stared back blankly, clutching her toothbrush. After a moment, she pointed at her foamy mouth.

‘Right, sorry,’ said the pilot, but she didn’t move away. Leia supposed a second, slow brush of her back teeth couldn’t hurt. She rinsed with deliberate care, twice—yet she couldn’t postpone the end of her dental care forever.

‘I beg your pardon?’ 

‘It’s okay, Princess; I know it was just to keep your cover,’ the other rebel told her with a wink, as if they were two high-school friends sharing a piece of juicy gossip during recess. 

_But we’re not,_ Leia thought. _I don’t even know her name. How can people already know about that?_

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Leia said, giving the other rebel an apologetic look. Maybe if she continued to play clueless, the nosy pilot would give up.

She was wrong.

'Oh—I heard through a friend about your mission to Uviuy Exen. Sounds so exciting. I know it's not all fun and games, of course, but still... Wish _I_ was sent on an undercover mission with Han Solo sometime, ha ha.'

'Well, you're very right about that, it's not at all a game,' Leia said, arching an eyebrow as she dried her mouth, hands and toothbrush and packed her toiletries in a small pouch.

'But it's true, isn't it? That you two kissed?’ the rebel insisted. ‘I heard about it through a friend, who heard it from Janson—I think he heard it from Captain Solo himself.'

_Right. Captain Solo himself. Couldn't wait to brag, could he?_

'Sorry, your name was…?'

'Where are my manners?’ The pilot had the good sense to look moderately embarrassed, although it wasn’t clear whether it was from the fact Leia Organa didn’t know her or how she’d started prying into Leia’s life without even a hello. ‘I’m Clyos, Green Squadron.'

'Clyos, right. Look, you're going to have to ask someone else about Captain Solo's kissing, because I can't help you with that,’ Leia said, as diplomatically as she could. ‘But I’m sure there are plenty other people in this base who’d be happy to enlighten you.’

‘So Janson was making it all up, as usual,’ Clyos said, sighing and shaking her head with exasperation. ‘Knew it. That whole “we have to make out to keep our cover” cliché doesn’t happen in real life, does it? If that’s your story for locking lips with someone, well, you just wanted to kiss ‘em.’

Clyos pushed herself off the row of sinks at last and took two steps backwards.

‘Besides, I think you’re too much of a pro for that anyway, Your Highness,’ she said, touching two fingers to her forehead in salute before exiting the communal ‘fresher.

Leia stared after the other woman, her things hanging from her limp hand. Han did that same salute. Han, whom Leia had, in fact, kissed—twice. Han, whom she’d barely seen since then, almost a month ago, and whom she’d been trying not to think about, either.

If she was a pro at anything, maybe it was avoidance.

Much later that day, Leia lay down on her cot staring up at the grey ceiling, her hands folded one on top of the other on her softly rising and falling stomach.

_That whole “we have to make out to keep our cover” cliché doesn’t happen in real life, does it? If that’s your story for locking lips with someone, well, you just wanted to kiss ‘em._

Clyos was wrong. Unequivocally so.

Leia had pushed the encounter to the back of her mind that morning and gone to work as usual. It had been a frivolous conversation—inappropriate, too. There was no place for frivolity in Leia’s world. Now, she was alone in the silent semi-darkness of her bleak quarters, and the thoughts came easier than sleep.

Of course stuff like that didn’t happen in real life—not in the sense they understood “real life” to be. There was a time when a rebel wasn’t a rebel, a spy, an enemy pilot, but an accountant, a scholar, a cadet. A senator. Most people had regular lives, with regular jobs, or aspired to, if they were too young at the time. Lies and deception were not necessary for their survival. So finding yourself in such a spot that you would do _anything_ to get out of, like being on the verge of losing an important shipment of ore that was vital to the survival of your freedom-fighting operation unless you acted in such a way that your target was absolutely convinced you were not a spy… Stuff like that didn’t use to happen in real life, either. But whatever they were living, _that_ was real life, and stuff like that did happen now. How was a kiss more incongruous with “real life” than what the rest of their real lives had become?

Besides, it hadn’t been at all like in a holofilm. Maybe if you stripped it off of all the danger, everything that was at stake, and you told it to a third party, then you could make it sound romantic, whimsical. In reality, Leia had been terrified and confused. Felian, the pirate who had stolen the Alliance’s ryll cargo, had spotted her and Han tailing him. He could have taken them out into a back alley at blasterpoint and shot them. He could have destroyed the codes to retrieve the cargo. He could have threatened civilians, or alerted the Empire about Han and Leia.

He hadn’t, only because Han had kissed her right then and there, saving their cover as a recently engaged couple. Maybe there had been a moment, the briefest of moments, a wisp of a moment, when she hadn’t felt terror or confusion. And then, at the park, it had all happened again. _She_ had kissed him, only as a matter of saving their necks and their objective.

Once they had been back on base, Leia had decided it would be better to clear things up. The kissing had been all part of the job. She didn’t want Han to misinterpret it—she didn’t want to misinterpret it herself. They were good partners; sometimes, when she wasn’t angry at him, she even thought of him as a friend. That was what she’d meant, for them to go back to that. Han had agreed. Then he’d avoided her, came up with excuses not to be around her. Could she blame him, when she’d done the same?

Leia rolled over, seeking the cooler corner of her pillow. The warmth of the volcanic world of Obas didn’t relent, even at night.

She’d just needed a little time away from Han. Enough to forget that, in the frozen moment between terror and confusion, what she’d felt had been relief.

* * *

He heard her voice before he saw her; that distinctively smoky voice of hers, rich like whiskey, unintentionally enticing like it, too, at least when her tone was low and secretive like it was then. Not when she yelled, though; then it was hard and unforgiving, like a rod across the knuckles.

He had missed it either way. There was no point in lying to himself.

It carried out of the room because the door was open, expecting him. That had been a surprise. For a whole month, she had avoided him; there had been no more cajoling for him to do this and that run for the rebellion, no more personal requests that he accompany her on this and that mission.

That was a lie. She had tried a couple of times, tentatively, but he’d always beaten her to it, signed up for a different mission without her. Then he’d told them all he was taking some personal time off and left. The _Falcon_ , Chewie and the whole wide galaxy were all Han needed. Chewie hadn’t been too happy about that.

Maybe she had missed him. _Or maybe she had no other choice_ , he thought, his mouth twisting bitterly. Chewie had asked him why they were coming back; Han had said the rebellion’s credits were as good as anyone else’s. That somebody needed to stop Luke from kamikazing himself. That they were safer from Jabba that way.

They were all true. None of them was the truth.

Han sauntered into the room and a pair of heads looked up.

‘Ah, Solo,’ a bored voice greeted him. ‘Finally gracing us with your presence.’

‘You could stand to sound a tad more excited, Cracken,’ Han said. ‘It’s not as if I didn’t save your little spies’ asses at great personal risk, huh?’

General Airen Cracken hadn’t been very impressed with Han from the first moment, agreeing with his involvement in an undercover mission as a racer only because Leia had vouched for him—and because he’d had to admit they didn’t have many other suitable options.

‘And running a little too great risks for the Alliance as well,’ the Head of Security and Intelligence rebuked, matching Han’s scowl. ‘You did prove yourself to be a valuable asset to our branch in spite of your transgressions, however, which brings us here.’

‘Lucky me.’

There was a quiet sigh, and Han finally had an excuse to stop looking at Cracken’s tough face and turn to Leia.

‘Hey, Princess.’

‘Hi, Captain.’

‘We missed ya at sabacc nights,’ he said casually, probing.

‘You were missed in patrol, too,’ she replied. Her face didn’t give anything away, but Han thought she resented him a little. It could be he was projecting.

Cracken cleared his throat loudly then, _blast him_ , and they both looked away from each other. Han put his hands on his hips and thrust his chin at the other two.

‘So what d’you want this time?’

He hoped he didn’t have to rescue any more spies; they were a self-righteous and ungrateful bunch.

‘One of my agents has been working for months to set up a data exchange with a sympathizer,’ Cracken began, ‘someone powerful and popular within the Imperial propaganda sphere—meaning that communicating with them isn’t exactly an easy job. It was supposed to happen during a high-profile, high-security event in Brentaal IV. This agent has become indisposed, they won’t make it. So…’

Cracken gestured to Leia, giving the figurative floor to her.

‘I’m going on their behalf.’

'Ah, I was wonderin' when we'd get to that part,' Han commented.

'You have to understand the gravity of this mission,' Leia warned. 'It's not your regular jaunt to some backwater planet. It's taken incredibly delicate work to put together, and in any other circumstances, no matter how much we could use this intel, we'd let it go, but—it just so happens that I'm a good replacement for our agent.'

'Still not surprised, Your Worshipfulness,' Han interjected, earning himself a glare.

'Naturally I had to fight High Command on this. It's not only that I'd be at risk, but we'd be endangering our contact as well. We'd be walking straight into the rancor's cave. So—'

'Yeah, got it, you want me an' Chewie to get you in an' outta there.'

'I want you to come with me, yes,' Leia said slowly, looking at him as if she were gauging his reaction, 'as my date. It's a ball.'

‘Me? You wanna take _me_ to a ball?’ Han laughed. It sounded like a joke; like a petty sort of payback. She had been avoiding him since their last mission together, when they’d had to pose as a couple, but all of a sudden she wanted an encore?

Frowning, Leia crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Yes. What’s so funny about it?’

‘Alright, I’ll bite. Why me?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe your dancing prowess,’ Leia snapped.

‘As unlikely as it seems,’ Cracken interjected quickly, looking weary, ‘Princess Leia’s argument to High Command was that the two of you make quite the capable team—and, again to my complete astonishment, most of High Command agreed that she’d be safest with you.’

‘Well—yeah. ‘Course she would.’ He glanced at Leia and their eyes met, locked for a few seconds.

‘I want you to come,’ Leia said, blinking, ‘because you’re a natural at pretending to be someone you’re not and you have a very fine sense for spotting deception.’

She spoke so swiftly, it took Han some time before it occurred that she might have insulted him.

‘Hey wait a—’

‘It’s too late for us to find and sanction another escort, so should you choose to refuse,’ she continued, ignoring him, ‘High Command won’t be willing to let me go on my own…’

There was something in Leia’s eyes that, inexplicably, he understood. _I’ll go with or without you, with or without High Command’s approval, no matter the risk._

‘Alright, I’m in,’ Han said. ‘Where am I getting dancing shoes at such short notice?’

Two hours later, Han replayed the conversation that followed as he went about his freighter, checking that everything—or almost—was working as it should.

_‘The event starts Friday at 2000, Brentaal time, at the Grand Imperial Hotel in Oradin, west of the capital. You’ve been to Brentaal?’_

_‘Sure, I’m familiar with their spaceports and warehouses.’_

_‘Well, the Grand Imperial Hotel is one of their most upscale, exclusive venues, and management was seized by the Empire shortly after Palpatine appointed Maclain as regional governor. Now it’s reserved for high-ranking Imperial officers and staunch sympathizers, including some media personalities. What they’re hosting is a masquerade gala—a_ benefit _gala, actually, if you can believe it, to support our brave Stormtroopers fighting the traitors to the Empire in the front lines.’_

_‘A masquerade ball.’_

_‘Yeah. Our agent, Targeter, actually had a hand in choosing the theme, which of course works to our advantage—but it’s not so simple. Obviously, they’re not just going to let anyone walk in with a mask. The Empire knows that, despite their purges, the possibility of double-agents within their ranks is all too real. They will do finger and eye scans at entry points, and there will be at least two of those before you get to the building proper. Targeter is herself under a very solid cover, which means I’ll be wearing her own lenses and fingerpads.’_

_‘You’re sure they won’t make you take off your mask? And what about the rest of you, will it pass as this Targeter? Do you even know what she looks like?’_

_‘... I do, yes. As long as I wear heels, I’ll be okay. Trust me. We can’t rule out that they’ll make us take off our masks, we’ll just have to hope they won’t. Targeter’s former date for this ball is also a sympathizer to our cause, but he doesn’t know her real identity or her degree of involvement with us. He was going to accompany her as a favor; Targeter has already contacted him to cancel their plans. You will go using the identity of one of our other agents._

_‘For this operation we’ll have to make two pit stops. The first one will be on Argai Minor, where we’ll be contacted by Targeter and receive her instructions and our equipment, including clothes and prosthetics. That’s where we’ll leave the_ Falcon _with Chewie and take a charter to our second stop, on Ganthel, where we’ll get ready. Assuming we don’t need to make a quick escape, we’ll head back to Ganthel again after the gala for a couple of hours, still undercover, then hop off to Chandrila to meet Chewie, and back to base.’_

_‘Hell, this is giving me a headache.’_

_‘You don’t find this type of mission exciting, then?’_

_‘What? Do you?’_

_‘Of course not. Never mind. We leave in two hours, so I suggest you head back to the_ Falcon _if you need to refuel or do last minute repairs.’_

_‘Still need to tell Chewie about all this.’_

_‘Try and be quick, please. We’re on a very tight schedule.’_

_‘Ain’t we always, Princess.’_

He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Before they’d started making excuses not to, he and Leia had seen each other a few more times in the aftermath of Uviuy Exen. She wanted to remain friends, she said, just in case he had different notions. He didn’t know she thought of him as a friend to begin with—they were friendly, sure, but the way she could treat him sometimes, like he was only worth his time helping her cause… That was fine by him; it wasn’t as if he was going to ask her on a date after a couple of kisses—kisses that were only meant to get them out of a bind. But no matter what they’d said, something had changed between them, making every interaction, every conversation weird, every look in each other’s direction charged with something nameless. Grown men didn’t get _crushes_ , but she was beautiful and spunky, of course he was attracted to her. Kissing her had only made him aware of how much more he was missing, how much fun they could have, if she wanted to—which she’d made clear she didn’t.

So, he’d left, to try and get over himself. Found other women to kiss and do more than that, but it wasn’t the same, he couldn’t get her _out_. Of his mind, his senses. It felt like when he’d tried to give up smoking cold turkey. He thought he’d do it gradually, then, that’s why he’d come back. Maybe seeing her growing cold and resentful of him, of his carelessness, his lack of loyalties and morals, even catching her sneaking away with someone else, that was sure to snap him out of it.

If the Force was real, Han thought it had a painful sense of irony.

* * *

‘Welcome to the Historic Silver Cosmos Hostel. How can I help you?’

Leia beamed at the receptionist, a woman with a wild mane of pink curls and thick blue glasses who had been absorbed in her datapad when Leia and Han had walked up to her station.

‘Hello. I believe we have a room booked for us,’ Leia told her, rapping her long, red and very fake fingernails on the edge of the desk. She was quite proud of her disguise: she had dug up the wig she’d worn to her and Han’s last mission together and tied it back with a colourful scarf. Then, she’d donned a loose printed dress that she’d found in the communal crate of clothes they kept back on base for occasions such as this and the leather pumps Han had picked for her the last time. She had kept those, too; not that she needed them for daily use, but it was hard enough to find shoes her size that she had decided it might save her future trouble.

‘Name?’

‘We’re the Tannes,’ Han said, leaning into the desk and flashing a bright smile.

‘First time in Argai Minor?’ the receptionist asked without looking at him, scrolling down the screen set into her desk with one finger.

‘Sure is. Tell me, sweetheart, you don’t have any loud patrons here, do ya?’ Han asked her, his voice splurging in warmth (and a fake Sacorrian accent). ‘See, the missus here needs her beauty sleep.’

‘I _told_ you that ship’s bunk is terrible,’ Leia complained, grimacing as she rubbed and arched her back, drawing attention to the bump in her stomach—another stroke of genius, if you asked her. ‘I need a few good hours of sleep in a proper mattress!’

‘Anything for the little urchin,’ Han said, patting her shoulder. He should have patted her stomach, not her shoulder, but Leia still smiled lovingly at him.

‘Oh, you’ll have no problem sleeping here, not much going on today. There you are, room seventeen booked to an Elliana Tannes. Your sister’s already dropped by to deliver some luggage for you, is that right?’

‘Yes, thank you so much for letting her in,’ Leia answered without missing a beat. Touching her stomach, she added, ‘This guy’s already getting some hand-me-downs, ha!’

‘Well, alright then. Here’s your passkey, and the com code for the reception is one-oh-five in case you need anything. Have a nice stay.’

For a place that had such an impressive name, Leia thought that the Silver Cosmos Hostel could have done with a renovation. The floors were worn with use, the drapery discoloured. The one sofa in their room had a wedge stuck under one of its legs and one of the lamps flickered on and off. They wouldn’t stay here for long, though: only a few hours until Targeter could get in touch with them.

As promised, there was a crate waiting for them. Before they could check it out, though, Han put their suitcase on the bed, took out a portable scanner and handed it to Leia so she could do a sweep of the room for bugs. He looked around, too, running his hand on the inside and underside of various objects. Leia ran the scanner on the crate and, once it appeared to be safe, she finally typed in the code to open it. There was a pair of small sealed boxes that she took out and placed carefully on the bed. Each had a strip of flimsi taped to the lid with a scrawled letter: an A and an O. Inside, there were two more separate boxes, each with a set of synthskin fingerpads, and a third box with contact lenses.

Leia went back to the crate and removed two large, black garment bags.

‘That what we’re supposed to be wearin’?’ Han asked, standing next to her.

‘Yeah,’ she answered, walking to a coat stand and hanging them. They wouldn’t be getting dressed until their second stop, but she wanted to check that everything that was supposed to be there was actually there. Two lumpy cloth bags at the bottom held their shoes, and two sturdy flat boxes, their masks. There was another box with assorted accessories, and the last one contained their identicards.

‘Looks like everything is in order,’ Leia said with a relieved sigh. This was the easiest part of their mission, but it was still an accomplishment that everything had gone according to the plan. She unclipped her fake belly and hung it over the back of a chair before working on putting everything back into the crate. Han, meanwhile, was raising Chewie on the comm.

‘Everything looks good so far here, pal. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll let you know when we make contact and then you can take off. Sure, why?’ 

Leia looked up in time to see Han frowning at his comm. 

‘Shut up and mind your own business, will ya?’ he growled. With a final noncommittal grunt, he forcefully left the comm on the bedside table.

‘Trouble in paradise?’ Leia asked him, smirking slightly. To her surprise, he looked at her as if he’d only now noticed she was there.

‘No! Why? ‘S nothin’,’ Han said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Not for the first time, Leia wondered what had possessed her to think that this would be easy. Probably sheer dumb wishful thinking. Or maybe she’d believed that seeing Han being over the awkwardness and the tension between them would help her to… _move on_ as well. She hated that there was even something she needed to move on from, something as silly as a kiss. 

_But is a kiss always silly or can it be a coveted commodity sometimes, times like this?_

She appreciated his friendship. She appreciated his partnership in missions, too, and she couldn’t let that be compromised, not right now.

‘Han,’ Leia began, taking off her wig and laying it on the bed, ‘is there anything we need to talk about? I know you agreed to do this but I need to know if… if there’s going to be any trouble, I mean… if you’re upset at me?’

‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘’m not upset at you, Princess. Really. Wouldn’t have come all the way here if I was, would I?’

‘Right.’ She gave him a small smile as they looked at each other, and she thought she saw the corners of his lips twitch up a little, but then he cleared his throat.

‘So what’s the plan while we wait? Wanna play a round of cards? I have my lucky deck right here, just in case.’ Han patted his vest. ‘Think I saw a minibar over there, I could do with a gizer.’

* * *

They played three rounds of sabacc before Targeter’s call finally came through, sitting on cushions on the floor around a caf table. Every time they had played in the past, she seemed to have picked up a new trick just from watching him the last time. The secret of card games was to anticipate the other players’ moves, and even though Han could still figure her out enough to win, she put up a decent fight.

The game managed to ease that big, unnamable tension between them. 

_‘[Try not making out with the Princess this time],’_ Chewie had told him on their last contact. Who did he think Han was? He had no intentions of kissing Leia. It was too complicated. He was in over his head enough as it was with her and Luke, and even with Chewie; he did not need to add a romantic relationship to the mix. Or whatever that would be, with Leia. She didn’t seem to want anything of the sort with him, in any case, so that was settled. What the hell did Chewie know?

Han had just managed to coax Leia into having a gizer (for no other reason than she said she hadn’t had one in ages, but she didn’t want to indulge during a mission) when the lights on their handheld holoprojector started to blink.

Leia hurried to put her unopened bottle back down on the table and straightened up before accepting the transmission. A hologram popped up: not the small figure of a cloaked agent that Han had been expecting, but a symbol made up of two parallel lines that diverged in the middle to give the illusion of a diamond, with two smaller diamonds set on each side.

‘By the light of Lothal’s moons,’ the modulated voice said, identifying themselves as the agent. ‘These are your instructions for mission BO102.

‘Your designated names are Alys Stormchaser and Orion Mai. You will find your respective identicards within the crate that was delivered to your current position. You will also find a mem-stik with details pertaining to your personae. These are the identities you will adopt immediately after leaving your current position, and until the moment you leave to your second-to-last destination.

‘Transportation from your second location to the spaceport and from there to your goal location have already been arranged; you can consult the details in your passes, which are also in the mem-stik.

‘Now, on to the more pressing details of this operation. Our contact has been made aware of the change in plans and Princess Leia’s true identity; in fact, this has been decisive in the survival of the mission. We are talking about a trustworthy, powerful contact. They refuse to be compromised and we ourselves would be loath to lose them. They were unwilling to make contact with any of our other agents, but a connection to Leia’s background has convinced them to place their trust in her, and only her.

‘The exchange will happen as follows: Leia will go unaccompanied to the third refresher in the west wing of the goal location after a song from her homeland plays. There, she will leave her mask on the countertop by the third soap dispenser and enter a stall. She will remain inside with the door closed for five minutes, then she will get out, pick up her mask, and leave the refresher to go back to her previous position. The mask would now have been swapped by one that contains a series of hidden mem-stiks. Needless to say, the preservation of this mask is vital.

‘Solo, you are not allowed to follow Leia to her drop-off point, but after her departure, you will wait for three minutes before following her out and waiting by the first ‘fresher to the west. Once the drop-off has happened, Leia will find you and you will return to your positions. The maximum time for her return is fifteen minutes. You are allowed to go in search of her after that time, but try not to raise any alarms.

‘After this, you should remain in position for forty-five minutes before leaving to avoid suspicions. There should be nothing to worry about at this point, so you are encouraged to partake in the activities as naturally as possible—although voluntary socializing is not advised.

‘Should the code song not be played in the span of three hours, you will need to leave the location quickly and discreetly, as the contact has more likely been compromised by then.

‘If your second-to-last location becomes compromised, the coordinates to a safehouse will be transmitted to you as soon as contact is made. Do you have any questions?’

Han’s head felt so jam-packed with information and everything that could go wrong, he didn’t know what Leia was talking about when she asked, ‘How will I identify this song?’

‘Your knowledge of the song will be our contact’s guarantee of your true identity,’ Targeter replied. ‘You _will_ recognize it. Trust me.’

Leia nodded once, her lips pressed tightly.

‘I don’t like this,’ Han said. ‘How can _we_ trust it’s not a trap? What if they take advantage of Leia goin’ alone to the ‘fresher?’

‘Trust,’ Targeter answered simply. ‘I’m afraid that is how this works. In any case, that’s what you will be there for. ’

 _Big help that’s gonna be. A lot can happen in fifteen minutes_ , Han thought, but didn’t say. It wasn’t as if they had any other options here.

‘Now, attendants are forbidden to carry any weapons,’ Targeter continued, ‘but you have been cleared for civilian-grade hold-out blasters, one each.’

‘ _Civilian-grade?_ ’ Han growled. ‘Those things are shit!’

‘Not these,’ Leia interjected before Targeter could say anything. ‘I saw them earlier, they’ve been modified.’

‘That is correct. They are hybrids, maintaining the appearance of civilian blasters while having the power of a military-grade type—if somewhat limited. We do not want it to come to an open firefight, Solo, please remember that.’

Pointing a finger at the hologram, outraged, he asked, ‘Who do you think I am, some trigger-happy rogue?’

‘Well…’

He glared at Leia, but she just raised an eyebrow back.

‘I don’t shoot unless there’s danger, Your Worship, and you should remember it’s saved your ass more than once.’

‘Still,’ she said, ‘Targeter is right. Even if there’s danger, we cannot open fire while we're there. We must keep our covers for as long as we possibly can, and find another way to get out.’

‘Even if it means leaving the other one behind,’ Targeter added.

Han turned sharply to Leia, and found her staring at him.

‘Exactly,’ she said, her voice low but clear. She leaned a little towards him, something in her eyes giving off a feeling of urgency. ‘You have to promise me, Han.’

He shook his head in one jerky movement. ‘Princess, you know I can’t—’

‘Please.’ Han felt the brush of something against his hand, splayed out on the floor between their cushions. He looked down and saw it was the tip of her fingers, touching his for just a moment. His head had begun to hurt. ‘This mask is more important. I brought you here because I trust you, remember?’

‘I’d rather you stopped bringin’ me to anythin’ just to order me to let you die if it comes to it’, Han said, anger seeping tightly into his words.

Leia opened her mouth, but seemed to struggle before she could say, ‘I bring you because I know you won’t let it come to that.’

She was right; he'd do his damnedest to avoid getting to that point.

'I'll guard that kriffin' mask. You got my word.'

Targeter’s voice broke into the moment. ‘I must go now.’ 

Han and Leia looked away from each other at last and turned back to the holoproj. Leia cleared her throat; he noticed her cheeks looked darker in the bluish light the device gave off.

‘Leia.' Even though the spy’s voice was being disguised, a hint of emotion seemed to come through. 'May the AT-AV continue to bat starblossoms across the galaxy.'

There was a sharp intake of break next to him, but when Han looked her way, Leia seemed composed. He'd known about the moons of Lothal code, but he had no idea what this meant. 

It clearly meant something to Leia, who replied, 'May it.'

And after that, the hologram was gone, leaving the two of them alone again.

* * *

They arrived at the resort on Ganthel four hours later as Alys, well-to-do daughter of an ore Baron from Ceium, and Orion, flight controller. This time there was no pregnancy bump, ugly wig or tourist clothing, but the best flight outfits they could find in their respective wardrobes. Their lodgings were an upgrade from Argai Minor, too.

‘Targeter really didn’t scrimp on luxuries, huh?’ Han commented as the door of their room slid shut behind them.

'The work our spies do is crucial to the success of the rebellion,’ Leia explained as she set her suitcase down and took the bug scanner out again. 'We strive to ensure their safety and the continuity of their covers at any cost. So yeah, they get to come to the fancy hotels sometimes while we get the lumpy-mattress-and-tiny-'freshers places.'

As soon as their security check was over, Leia began to take out their equipment from the crate once again and spread it on the bed. They had about five hours to get ready and arrive to Brentaal. It was supposed to be plenty of time, but she didn’t want to run any risks.

‘So, uh… we’re s’pposed to come back here after the party and… uh, spend the night, right?’ Han asked.

Leia was busy arranging everything, her things together on one side, his on the other, too distracted to pay much attention and vaguely annoyed that he wasn’t trying to help.

‘That’s the plan.’

‘Guess this is mine, then, huh? Dunno how I’ll fit, though.’

Confused, Leia turned around and saw he was standing by a two-seat sofa, giving her an awkward lopsided smile. It took her a second to realize what he was talking about.

‘We’ll figure that out later, Han,’ she said, frowning. ‘Can you come here now, please? We have to get ready!’

She grabbed her voluminous garment bag and locked herself in the ‘fresher. Too preoccupied with the mission, with her mind going over details and schedules, she’d barely noticed the luxury of the resort, but Han was right. This ‘fresher was a far cry from the communal ones back on base, the stained ‘freshers in every backwater planet hotel they usually stayed at, and even the ones on their best starships. The floor was polished, pale larmalstone, the walls a deep, calming blue. There was a double sink with golden faucets, and a large shower with pearly panelling. Only imagining the intensity of its water pressure made Leia long for it, but there was no time now.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she stripped down to her underwear, left her clothes folded on top of the toilet, and unzipped the bag, which swept the floor even from its hanger on the wall.

‘Oh my stars,’ she breathed out. Growing up a princess, she wasn’t a stranger to fine gowns—not that she had ever appreciated them much, despite her droid TooVee’s efforts. But the dress in front of her was exquisite without being extravagant, sexy without being revealing. The bodice was embellished in silver crystals that formed intricate patterns, encircling the shoulders and dipping in a low cleavage before mixing in with black crystals between the waist and thighs. The black skirt would hug her figure and flare out below her knees. There was a tail, too, with laser cuttings that mirrored the details of the bodice. It was an abrupt change from the practical jumpsuits, plain tunics and second-hand shirts she’d been wearing for the past two years. Leia was beginning to worry she would trip on the skirt, especially with the mile-high shoes she’d have to wear to match Winter’s height.

 _Winter… I think you had a little too much fun with this_ , she thought, smiling sadly. It had been good to hear her childhood friend again, even if it hadn’t been her voice or her face that she’d seen, to have her own confirmation that Winter was still alive and kicking, like her.

Now that she’d seen her outfit, she styled her hair with a series of twists and braids to wear it loose but pulled back. Then she put on black eyeliner and mascara, some glittery eyeshadow and a dab of pale pink lipstick. Finally, she took off her bra and stepped into the dress. Miraculously, it fit, but she wasn’t able to get the zipper up all the way on the fine mesh that closed her dress at the neck.

Leia took a deep breath as she brushed her hands carefully down the bodice, looking at her reflection in the mirror. For a minute, she had forgotten who was on the other side of the ‘fresher’s door. She suddenly felt nervous about coming out. The Leia she saw in the mirror was not the Leia that Han was used to. Clothes were dangerous; not in any way that had to do with antiquated morals, but in the way food seemed tastier when it was wrapped in a shiny, colourful package.

What would he look like, she wondered? There was only one way to find out.

He was standing in the middle of the room, scowling down at himself and tugging at his clothes uncomfortably here and there. If it weren’t for that, which was such a Han thing to do, she would have had to look twice to recognize him.

A blue shirt decked with rows of military-style gold braid peeked from under a darker jacket in leather and suede, also sporting metallic buttons on each side, while his suede trousers were tucked inside boots fit for a prince. Each piece was a slightly different shade of blue, but somehow, it all worked together. Like her look, it was luxurious without being inordinately conspicuous. It made him look good. Too good, maybe.

And maybe the feeling was mutual, because when he noticed her, his eyes widened a little as he stopped fidgeting, mouth hanging open. He cleared his throat forcefully and gave a low whistle.

'You look like a million credits.'

‘Thank you. I, um, need your help with something.’

Han looked alarmed for a moment, but she was battling with her own self-awareness as she approached him and turned her back to him, holding her hair aside.

‘Zip me up?’

‘Sure, yeah.’

His fingers were warm against her exposed skin, but it was all she could do to stop herself from shivering at the touch.

‘Please be careful, it’s very delicate,’ Leia said quietly.

‘I know. I can be careful, you know,’ Han told her, his voice so close to her, she imagined she could feel the vibration against her back. She had grossly underestimated her attraction to him.

The zipper seemed to come up in slow motion as he strived to be gentle with it. When she felt him move away, she turned back and rearranged her hair.

Forcing her expression to look professionally assessing instead of shamelessly lustful, she asked, ‘Did everything fit okay?’

‘Uh, yeah, kinda,’ Han grunted. ‘’M not a fan of it. I feel like an exhibit uralang.’

‘Well, you look good,’ she said casually before she could stop herself. ‘Except…’

Leia stepped close to him again and reached up to smooth down the collar of his shirt. Their eyes met as he looked at her, and her stomach seemed to flutter.

‘There you go.’

As she put on her shoes in silence, Leia tried to force her mind to run figures and potential threats again. It was less dangerous than thinking about Han and what might happen if he kept looking at her that way.

* * *

‘Okay, you should get out and open the door for me,’ Leia said quietly as he pulled up their rental speeder to a valet droid, her eyes glittering from under her mask with the lights from the hotel. 

‘I know how to get out of a speeder,’ Han said testily.

‘Fine! Ready?’

Hell no, Han was not ready for this.

They had managed to pass through both entry points without a hitch, their fake identities verified by their lenses and finger pads. So far so good, but just going in he could see two problems: first, the place was teeming with Imperial sympathizers; what if anyone saw right through them? Second, this seemed to be a class act Han wasn't sure he could follow, which would definitely not help with issue number one.

He got out of the speeder, nearly knocking his mask off in the process, and gave a nod to the valet droid before going over Leia’s side. He did as she’d said, holding her small hand in his as she stepped out much more gracefully than he had, slinging the chain of a little ball-shaped purse over her shoulder. Leia stooped down to arrange the tail of her dress behind her, then stood to her full height. It was disconcerting for Han to find her nearly at eye level when he usually got a crick in his neck if he talked to her for too long. What concerned him about it were the eight-inch heels she’d needed to achieve that height. When he’d asked if she knew how to walk in those, she’d given him a breezy, ‘We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?’ He hoped they wouldn’t have to find out whether she could run in them.

Standing next to Leia, he felt even more uncomfortable in his skin. Inadequate. When she’d stepped out of the ‘fresher in that getup, he knew this night was going to be much harder than he’d given it credit.

Night had fallen in Oradin, Brentaal as they followed the stream of guests down the walkway to the Grand Imperial Hotel, Leia’s hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. Despite Imperial intervention, the hotel’s structure had been allowed to remain unchanged; its Old Republic splendor was a mix of classic architecture in the façade and a more modern style inside. He and Leia stood in a relaxed line in the entrance hall, as they waited for a third—and hopefully final—time to be confirmed as legitimate guests. As ridiculous as it made him feel, Han was grateful for their masks. That way, he was able to take a good look around without any of the other guests suspecting anything but curiosity and admiration. The hall was peppered with sets of armchairs and sofas around tiny tables. There was a running fountain in their midst, and on each side, archways opened into corridors that hosted slightly more private alcoves. There were two unmarked entryways in each of those corridors, but all the guests were heading to the reception desk.

‘Lush, isn’t it?’ Leia whispered in his ear, startling him. Kriff, she had better stop doing that.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘We’re nearly there.’ She let go of his arm to face him, and pretended to fiddle with his mask so that, when she spoke, only he could hear her. ‘Try and relax, will you? You look tense. You can’t go in looking suspicious.’

‘What do you suggest I do, sweetheart, whistle a tune?’ he growled, frowning at her. 

‘Don’t stand so stiff, for one thing,’ she said sweetly. ‘Hold my hand and pretend to talk to me. The more… into each other we look, the less people will come up to socialize.’

That was just what he needed, to whisper sweet nothings into the ear of a woman who was part of the reason he was feeling so tense. She did have a point, though, and it wasn’t as if she’d stop insisting if he refused.

‘Fine,’ he muttered reluctantly, accepting her hand as they moved up the line.

They presented their credentials at the reception desk and Han pressed his finger into a scan. No eye scan this time, so at least that was something to be grateful for; he was about ready to snap.

Behind the open double doors, a corridor led them to a great ballroom that had begun to fill with other masked guests. The ceiling was out of sight, as all the upper floors seemed to have a balcony that ran round this hall—but the floors themselves were mostly hidden out of sight by verdant vegetation that fell down in cascade. Sets of low sofas and armchairs had been arranged on one side, next to ample windows overlooking an artificial lake. On the other side, beyond the dance floor, there was a bar, a couple of elevator doors and an ample staircase that led to the first upper level. There was a stage facing the entrance they’d come through, too, with several instruments already set up.

‘Let’s go get a drink,’ Leia told him, tilting her head towards the bar.

Han raised an eyebrow at her. ‘I thought you didn’t drink on the job.’

‘I do if the job requires it, as you might remember,’ she said, thinking of their last mission, when posing as a newly engaged couple had gotten them a free bottle of champagne. ‘It’d look suspicious if we didn’t drink all night. People come to these events for two things: to drink themselves blind, and to donate enough money it’ll make them look good even after drinking themselves blind.’

Han let out a dry chuckle; that sounded about right.

‘So you just didn’t want to have a gizer with _me_ earlier. Scared of what you’ll do if you drink yourself blind alone with me?’

‘Maybe I’d just donate enough money that you’d forget about it,’ she deadpanned, staring back at him.

They got two flutes of champagne and headed back to the dance floor, trying to blend in with the crowd. Han was just following Leia’s lead. His role in every rich people event he’d ever been to had always been to be quiet and unseen, since he hadn’t been there as a guest. Or else, to cause a big distraction. He didn’t belong there.

He turned to look at Leia. She didn’t seem impressed by their surroundings, but at ease—although it was hard to tell, since her big black mask covered everything but her eyes and mouth. It had been a while since he’d started really noticing how beautiful she was, and that was when she wore her baggy fatigues and conservative robes. Now, she looked breathtaking in that dress that hugged her figure and bared her shoulders and back, hinting tastefully at her cleavage.

 _She looks like the princess she is_ , Han reminded himself. Or the one woman he couldn’t have. It was funny, in a way, that he’d associated her status with the fact that she was off-limits. It wasn’t as if that would have stopped him from trying, before. But Leia wasn’t a woman he’d just met. Chewie didn’t need to tell him to take care of Leia and try not to hurt her; he already cared plenty for her. Too much, even.

‘How many of these things have you been to, _Alys_?’ he asked.

‘Fundraisers to support our loyal troops, you mean?’ She looked innocently at him. ‘I don’t recall there ever being one before. But I’ve been to many events that were the same in spirit. Not that I had a choice, but they were more useful than you'd think for… someone in my position.'

He could picture the unsuspected princess, tiny and bright-eyed, registering every piece of intel she could get out of an overserved high-up so she could pass it on to the rebellion.

‘Appetizers?’ a service droid asked, displaying a tray before Han and Leia. The intel had said there was not supposed to be a full dinner—save for a few exceptions; Han had already spotted a couple of richly set tables filled with white old dudes and their white old wives—but instead a continuous stream of appetizers through the night. Still, he couldn’t curb his disappointment at seeing the too-small portions. He was starving.

They both grabbed a meatball on a stick each—Han picked the biggest one there was—and then he snuck out a second one as the droid turned around. Leia didn’t notice right away; chewing half of her meatball, she turned casually in his direction and her eyes widened as she spotted the second appetizer going into his mouth.

He thought he was in for a scolding, but she sounded curious instead as she asked, ‘How did you do that? I was watching the whole time!’

Han grinned at her. ‘Tricks of the trade.’ He produced a third meatball and offered it to Leia, who smiled back with pleasure. ‘You weren’t lookin’ the whole time.’

‘Oh, thank goodness, I’m so hungry.’ After she’d swallowed a first bite, she took a step closer and said confidentially, ‘It’s very convenient for them to claim austerity in support of our soldiers to avoid feeding us properly despite invites being so insanely expensive.’

As they laughed, Han wondered what had made her become a senator, when it didn’t seem like she had ever been the kind of snobby, elitist wanker they were presently surrounded by. Sure, he’d thought she was a little snotty when they first met, but in hindsight, he couldn’t really blame her.

A spotlight shone on the stage and a presenter with a bright pink mask matching her dress came out; at once, the crowd turned towards her and applauded. Smiling, the presenter held up a microphone and began to talk.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome and thank you for joining us tonight here on the splendorous Grand Imperial Hotel of Oradin, one of the city’s—let’s be honest, one of _Brentaal’s_ finest buildings, thanks to Governor Maclain, who is honoring us with his presence.’

All heads turned to one of the tables, where one of the white old men Han had noticed before raised his glass.

‘Tonight’s gala is of huge importance not only to Brentaal, of course, but to the entire known galaxy, as we are here in support of our brave soldiers, who are giving their lives in this very instant to ensure our safety.’

Han tuned out the rest of the speech, as it involved more Imperial propaganda than he was able to stomach. After the presenter was done, service droids continued to circulate among the guests. He and Leia snagged a couple of mini quiches—Han got an extra, but this time he noticed Leia watching him discreetly. He winked.

They also accepted new flutes of champagne to wash down the quiches. Han was already on the lookout for another tray of appetizers when a band came out on the stage to everyone’s cheers. He and Leia whooped, too.

‘Hello everyone, how are we doing tonight?’ a Tw’ilek woman with a soft, dreamy voice said as the rest of the band members picked up their instruments. All of them were wearing masks, too. ‘We are Tinial’s Tway and we hope to make this evening magical for you.’

‘So that’s Tinial’s Tway,’ Han commented as the band began to play. He didn’t keep up with current music, but he’d heard of the band’s galaxy-wide popularity. Since they played mostly romantic songs and stayed neutral about politics, they had managed to avoid Imperial censoring, which every day seemed to get tighter. Leia wouldn’t get it, but Han thought it was a sensible choice, not playing sides to save your business—and your neck.

‘I’ve been callin’ them Tinial’s Way like an idiot,’ he added, which made Leia giggle.

‘Well, one _tway_ or another,’ she said, making him laugh in turn, ‘I think we should dance.’

She tilted her head towards the crowd around them; after a few minutes of more clapping, the people on the dance floor had begun to either retreat to the sidelines or pair up with their dates. The back of Han’s neck prickled.

‘I don’t dance,’ he muttered. ‘Don’t know how.’

Leia clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. ‘What is it with men? Someone mentions dancing and you panic like a dugar in the headlights. It’s not formal dancing, flyboy, it’s just swaying.’

‘I mean it,’ he said, looking her in the eye, frustrated that his eyes were all she could see, too, because he didn’t trust them to convey the seriousness of the matter. ‘I’ll trip and I’ll blow it all off—’

‘Hey,’ she said, coming closer again and placing a hand on his arm. Unlike him, she seemed confident, calm. ‘You won’t.’

Leia hailed a droid that was trying to make its way among the dancing guests without bumping into them, and dispatched both their empty flutes. She looked up at Han again and seemed to hesitate for a second—then she took one of Han’s hands and placed it on her waist, while she took his other hand in hers and placed her free one on his shoulder.

‘You don’t even need to move your feet, not really,’ she said, so close to him that he heard her over the mellow music even though she kept her voice low. And she was close indeed, making him forget about his dance-related worries and remember how attracted he was to her, and that they had kissed, and who could say this mission wouldn’t involve some emergency fake kissing too, at some point?

‘Just follow my lead,’ she said, his eyes on her lips, and kriff, he was _really_ trying to do just that.

* * *

When Leia was little, she’d beg her parents to let her come with them to any ball they were attending, even though she had been told many times that children were not allowed. To her pouts, Breha and Bail would reassure her by saying that once you’d seen one of such events, you’d seen them all, and promising to bring back a treat for her sweet tooth. This didn’t immediately convince the tiny princess, who would then say, ‘Let me go to just one, then!’

Some years later, Leia learned that the treats her parents brought back for her never came from their parties; they’d asked the palace cooks to make them beforehand. She also found out that they had been right: the novelty of balls, galas, fundraisers, cocktails and the like was rather short-lived.

In those times, she never had to wait long for a dancing partner. They were all so _nice_ , in the way that has more to do with etiquette than sincerity. But whenever the person she’d actually wanted to dance with would ask her, a thrill would run up her spine as they put their hands around her waist, and her opinion of the night would recover. 

She’d forgotten what that felt like, but it had come back easily as she and Han swayed together to the music.

She was sure Han couldn’t tell—her complete control over herself as well as her mask did their job well—but she had been nervous when she’d asked him to dance, as if she’d been fourteen again. Back then, she’d foolishly confused attraction with feelings, and thought that everyone only fell in love once, committing to them forever. Life had showed her that it was possible to have loved more than one person, that there was nothing shameful with being with someone purely because you were attracted to them, and that it wasn’t healthy to force a relationship just to be in one.

So, she knew she wasn’t in love with Han Solo; she just felt inevitably attracted to him, both physically as well as by some invisible connection, an understanding, despite all their disagreements, between them, and this in turn resulted in her caring about him as she would any close friend. A committed relationship between them was as impossible as indesirable. He wouldn’t object to giving in to passion, she knew; tales of his numerous and ephemeral affairs were well-known around base. Leia wouldn’t have objected to it herself, either, not on any moral basis, but she felt too vulnerable to let herself get tangled up in any form of attachment. It was a relief that, despite everything, she was still able to feel, she hadn’t been numbed, she was not broken, even if she felt guilty about it some days. It also meant that she had something else that could be taken away from her, to be used against her and annihilated. Dancing with Han thrilled her and scared her all at the same time, as if their feet would take them to the edge of a precipice and she would be too comfortable in his arms to pull back.

Despite these musings, she was paying close attention to the music. She resented Tinial’s Tway for their convenient political stance—it was one thing to choose not to do anti-Imperial protest songs, and another to play at Imperial functions—but she had to admit they sounded good. Only, how would she recognize the code song? Winter had been so sure about it, but too vague. Leia couldn’t remember any meaningful conversations between them about Tinial’s Tway. What if she missed the cue?

After two songs (none of which rang any bells), there was an intermission to announce the first group of winners for a silent auction that included items such as stays at the hotel, travel packages, backstage passes for the next Tinial’s Tway recital in Coruscant, and an orbital ride in one of the Governor’s luxury star yachts with the Governor’s (allegedly, but not really) handsome, oldest son. Han took advantage of the dancing break to get them some more appetizers and refreshments, which Leia was grateful for.

‘You have to use the ‘fresher yet, sweetheart?’ Han asked her casually.

‘No, not yet; I want to see who wins the Empire Day’s parade spot!’ she answered, affecting eagerness. He nodded in understanding and they watched on as the auction progressed and the last winner was announced.

Smirking at her over his cup—they had switched to innocuous glowwine—he said, ‘Lucky bastard.’

The band began to play again. This time, it was Han who took initiative. Leia jumped when she felt his arm wrapping around her waist.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ she hurried to say, touching his shoulder in reassurance before he could withdraw. His fingers brushed her back a little before his hands settled on her waist, and she failed to suppress a shiver.

‘Are you cold?’ Han asked, and she said no. She thought there was a knowing look on his face, maybe even pleased at the reaction he’d been able to draw out of her, but there was no real telling with the blue mask covering most of his face.

They had to be careful about the kind of topics they talked about, but Han bent close to her ear and asked her what she thought the next items up for auction would be. Laughing at the absurdity of his suggestions took off the edge of the way his breath tickled her skin.

Familiar chords suddenly filled the hall, rising over the crowd’s chatter like firebugs on a summer evening. Leia couldn’t place them at first, so long ago had she heard them for the last time; besides, it was not the original version, but a Tinial’s Tway cover. As the melody built up to the first verses, she felt as if her heart had skipped a beat, and then made it up by pounding against her chest. Yes, she knew this song very well, remembered twirling to it with her father, catching her parents swaying slowly to it in the darkened library, sharing a cup of sweet tea with her mother in the balcony as it played softly, Breha humming now and then. Leia had always thought it was a sweet song about two lovers who stood together unafraid of whatever life would throw at them. She had been happy knowing it was her parents’ song, that their love was as strong as the lovers’ in it. Listening to the lyrics now, she felt as if her insides were being torn apart. They had stood by each other as mountains crumbled to the sea. Literally.

‘What is it?’ Han asked, sounding concerned. Dimly, Leia realized she had been gripping his shoulders stiffly as she danced on autopilot, her eyes fixed on one of Han’s golden buttons. She looked up and shook her head, trying to make him understand that he shouldn’t draw attention to her. Then she stared at the button again and breathed in and out deeply, trying to steady her heart.

Suddenly, it hit her. That was it. That was the song. It had to be: Winter had said it was “a song from her homeland”. It had puzzled Leia because the Empire had famously banned most references to Alderaan, but it seemed like a cover of a decades-old song had managed to fly under the radar. Winter had known Leia would recognize this song straight away. Was someone in the band their contact? Or were they just the unwitting messengers?

When Leia felt calmer, she lay her head on Han’s chest. They had to be careful about this. He wrapped his arms around her, following her ploy, she thought, even though the way he stroked her back felt like a genuinely comforting gesture. Tilting her head up, she whispered in his ear, ‘I need to use the ‘fresher after this song.’

‘Got it.’

She thought about pulling away—she should have, there was no need for them to remain so close—but the song kept playing, and so did her pain, so she slipped her arms around Han’s back and closed her eyes, letting him rock her gently in his embrace.

The song was finally over. Leia blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill and drew back.

‘I better freshen up before taking any more champagne, honey,’ she told Han cheerfully, in case someone overheard.

‘Sure, yeah. I’ll wait for you at the bar,’ Han said, with a tilt of his head.

Leia left the dance floor making an effort to walk casually, unhurried, even though in her mind she was running late and the contact would leave before she got there. At least her wretched heels helped, in a way: she’d always hated heels, not being the naturally graceful type, and she hadn’t worn a pair in years, so she had to be careful when she didn’t have Han’s arm to hold on to.

There were a few groups of people in the west wing corridor, old friends socializing and new acquaintances seeking to get something from one another. How could she go to the _third_ ‘fresher without arousing suspicion?

As it turned out, there was a small line of people waiting at both the first and second ‘freshers, so it was only reasonable that Leia would decide to pass them by. The third ‘fresher was empty but for a woman reapplying her make-up. To stall, Leia checked her hair in the mirror and took a tube of lipstick from her purse, begging the Force that the woman would hurry up and leave as she retouched her lips.

When she was finally alone, Leia took off her mask and set it down by the third soap dispenser, as indicated. It was a relief to feel the air conditioning in her face; she was beginning to feel a little suffocated. Slipping into a stall, she hoped that she wasn’t too late, or too early, that no other person would come in, that Han was safe, sound and right where he was supposed to be. She began to count the minutes.

Two and twenty four seconds had gone by when the ‘fresher’s door opened. Leia held her breath, listening in to the sounds of rustles and shifts on the other side of her stall. Was it them?

After a few seconds, there was silence—Leia thought they had left; it was supposed to be a quick transaction, but then—

A subtle sound at her door, like someone pressing their hand against it, made her widen her eyes in surprise.

‘Your Highness,’ they whispered, ‘is it really you?’

Leia would never have answered that, but she didn’t have to: whoever had been in there was already gone.

* * *

_Two minutes fifty-two. Two minutes fifty-three. Two minutes fifty-four._

Han had been standing by the bar nursing a whiskey for two minutes and fifty-four—no, fifty five seconds, counting them all in his head, which was getting on his nerves. He tipped the rest of his drink back and left the empty glass on the counter before pushing himself off. Showtime.

Waiting around was something he was used to—lots of waiting around in his business—but not something he was particularly good at. He’d found he had even less patience for it when it involved Leia or Luke pulling off some crazy plan and him having to get them the hell out of there.

He also sort of missed Leia, and the excuse to hold her.

He was glad she hadn’t taken him by his word when he’d said he didn’t know how to dance. What had he imagined they’d have to do, waltz? It hadn’t been half bad. Maybe it was a good thing when he couldn’t open his mouth, that way he avoided setting her off.

Then she had been set off anyway by that song, but in a sad way rather than in anger. It couldn’t have been just that the song was their signal, or that it was supposed to be from Alderaan; Han thought it might mean something personal to Leia. She’d been on the verge of tears. It was proof of how deeply it had affected her the fact that she’d stayed pressed against his chest, even holding him, until the song’s end—and Han had to admit that as much as he hated seeing her hurting, that had felt good, too.

Han found the first ‘fresher and leaned against the wall outside the door, acting as if he thought she was inside. He actually had to take a leak himself, but he thought it would be safer to wait for her first. Unless she was gone for fifteen minutes, in which case he would have to go looking for her. He checked his chrono and began the countdown once again.

She was back only six and a half minutes later. He’d had to avoid looking down the corridor and the mask impaired his peripheral vision, so he was startled when a hand touched his upper arm.

‘Hey. Thought you were in this one,’ he said just for show.

‘No, there was a line when I came so I went a little further down,’ she explained. He noticed her lips looked freshly rosy. ‘Ready to go back?’

‘Gotta go in, first,’ he said, pointing at the ‘fresher.

Once they’d reunited again, Leia looped her arm through his and they headed back to the ballroom. He glanced at her mask: it looked exactly the same as the one she’d come in wearing, with embossed swirls, silver crystal accents and a few feathers for good measure. He was glad his blue and gold one didn’t have any feathers nor crystals, at least.

‘Everything alright then?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, not a problem.’

He hoped that meant the agent had showed up. If they were in danger, he knew she’d wait until it was safe to tell him, or she’d have pulled him away already. But nothing about her seemed off; she didn’t whisper in his ear or tug at his arm or tilted her head towards an exit. There seemed to be nothing else for them to do but stay for another forty-five minutes, like Targeter had said, just drinking and dancing together. Like nothing could go wrong with _that_ plan.

Leia put her hands on his shoulders again, and it was then that Han noticed she looked distracted, as if her mind was somewhere else. He wanted to ask what it was, but he knew that would be dumb. She couldn’t tell him much here, even in whispers. Han had the sudden vision of a couple of vrelt in a nest of snakes; the sooner they got out of there, the better.

Instead, and thinking it might be related, he asked, ‘That song, was it an old favourite of yours?’

She looked up at him with an expression he couldn’t read and seemed to think of what to say for several seconds—or maybe if she should tell him at all.

‘It was my parents’ favourite,’ she said.

‘Oh.’ Han hadn’t really listened to the lyrics, and now he’d all but forgotten them. He wished he’d paid more attention. As a man who didn’t like to answer many questions about his life, his rule of thumb was not to ask many questions himself, but he had to admit to some curiosity about her family. What kind of folks raised someone like Leia?

‘Were they… did they have a good relationship?’

‘Yes, very good.’ She smiled a little. ‘I was lucky to grow up and realize that they really were in love, and it wasn’t just childish idolizing on my part.’

‘Sounds nice. Wouldn’t know what that’s like.’

Leia gave him a wry smile. ‘What, having parents who love each other or being in love?’

‘Growing up with parents,’ Han deadpanned, which wiped the smile off her face. He laughed at her discomfort and to show her he was teasing her, but she still apologized.

‘’S alright. Did they ever embarrass you, your folks?’

‘Oh, yes—so many times. When I was in middle school, I invited some friends from one of my on-site courses for dinner at the—at home. I was nervous because I knew it was intimidating to come to… you know. So before asking my parents’ permission, I’d checked their calendars for a date when neither of them would be home, because I thought asking them to make themselves scarce would have been rude. Except they decided they wanted to be there to meet my friends—as if that wasn’t going to be too much pressure on a bunch of twelve-year-olds!’

They barely moved anymore as she continued to tell her story, often interrupting herself to avoid saying words that could be overheard, like _palace_ , _senate_ , _queen_ : how a five-course meal of gourmet, healthy versions of fast-food had been served instead of the pizza and hubba chips Leia had planned, how her mother had brought in a dozen heirloom Alderaanian swan feather duvets out for holofilm time and her father had spent close to an hour explaining how bills got passed in the Senate, and how, to Leia’s horror, her parents had given each other _soppy eyes_ in front of all her friends. After she finished her story, she began another, almost as if they had all been waiting for the chance to pour out of her. Han watched her as she talked, seemingly lost in her memories. Then she’d giggle and look up at him with a knowing grin, as if he had been there, or as if she thought he would have found it embarrassing, too. Whatever had been on her mind seemed to have been pushed to the back; all the sadness he knew she still felt for her lost home replaced by gleeful reminiscing, if only for a while. He liked that he’d done that. He liked how beautiful she was, even when the only things he could see of her were her shining brown eyes and smiling bow-shaped lips. He liked how soft and warm her body was under his hands, and the way that, several times throughout the night, her hands had moved along his shoulders towards his neck as if she’d wanted to wrap her arms around it.

‘Han,’ she asked, still with that slightly dreamy expression, snapping him out of his thoughts, ‘I said do you know what’s a l'lahsh?’

‘No,’ he said, and he didn’t really know what he was doing, either, when he bent his head down and kissed her.

It wasn’t a very long or very passionate kiss, not to his standards and the way he would have liked to kiss her. It was more like a trial run. He pressed his lips against hers and felt them parting to kiss him back, both of them moving slowly, as if they were afraid to scare the other off. Her floral perfume filled his nose and her lipstick clung to his lips.

Leia’s cheeks were flushed when they pulled apart. Quietly, she asked, ‘What was that about?’

Han cleared his throat. ‘I… someone was lookin’ at us,’ he lied. ‘Looked like he wasn't buyin' our cover.’

She looked at him with alarm. ‘Who?’ 

Maybe that fib hadn’t been such a hot idea after all. Han searched wildly around the place. 

‘Uh… That guy,’ he said, tilting his head towards one of the vornskr statues that flanked the staircase. ‘Was lookin’ very suspicious just a moment ago.’

The corners of Leia’s lips turned up in a small smile and she looked down to hide it. ‘Is that so?’

‘I swear. I’d never lie to you ‘bout somethin’ like that.’

‘You should clean that up,’ she told him, touching her lips and looking at his. Han rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth to wipe off the lipstick smudge, watching her. She was clutching at her elbow with one hand, her arm acting like a barrier across her stomach, her gaze wandering around the place. He’d fucked up. She’d told him she didn’t want anything to happen between them, and if he’d thought kissing her might tempt her otherwise, he’d underestimated how strong her resolve was. Even if she’d kissed him back just now.

Han checked his chrono. He didn’t think Leia wanted to keep dancing with him anymore.

‘Do you want to go?’ She looked up hesitantly at his question, probably wondering if the forty-five minutes they had been required to wait had passed, so he said, ‘Only ten minutes. That okay?’

‘Sure. Yeah, let’s go,’ she said, and held on to his arm again.

 _Her shoes. She held on to you all night because of her kriffin’ shoes_ , he thought as they exited the ballroom and walked back through the entrance hall. _She danced with you ‘cos that’s what she was supposed to do. Not ‘cos you’re such a catch. That’s how this works._

* * *

What had just happened?

It was a good thing she was an expert at compartmentalizing, because even though she still felt the anxious knot in her stomach, the threat of goosebumps on her arms and her back, Leia was able to push her thoughts away and focus on getting out of the hotel while making sure nobody was following them or paying too much notice to them. Still, she beat herself up at the possibility of having missed anything due to her internal turmoil.

_This is why this was such a bad idea!_

They barely talked during the ride to the spaceport and the shuttle back to Ganthel, but the kiss hung unspoken between them. Even with nothing to do for the hour it took them to return to the resort, Leia refused to analyze the situation, to prepare a speech. She merely pressed her forehead to the Star Commuter’s cool bulkhead and tried not to think at all. Her thoughts kept replaying the kiss anyway. At one point she dozed off, clutching her arms in a futile attempt to keep herself warm under the ship’s air conditioning, and woke up when she felt Han’s jacket covering her. She kept it even after they got off and took another rental to the resort, clutching it with both hands.

Their room was bathed in the soft light of a lamp they had left on. Leia closed the door and entered the security code to lock it.

Han took off his mask and threw it carelessly on the sofa with a relieved expletive. He grabbed their instruments to do a second sweep of the room—all their things were exactly where they’d left them, but you could never be too careful. Meanwhile, Leia sat down on the sofa, slipped off Han’s jacket and her mask, and unclasped her shoes, taking them off with a sigh and rolling her ankles. If they had to flee, she’d rather do it barefoot at this point. She was swearing off any more missions that involved stiletto heels in the immediate future. The small blaster holster from around her ankle came off, too.

When Han gave her the all-clear, she turned the mask over in her hands, fingers searching. Her heart was beating fast: what if it had all been for nothing and she’d brought the same mask she’d left with? But no, there were the mem-stiks, cleverly stuck under the mask’s embossed details. 

‘Mission successful,’ she told Han, who had been looking expectantly at her. The masks’ purpose fulfilled, Leia got up and put them away in their respective cases, and the mem-stiks in a small safe she’d brought. Then she looked up at him as he removed his blaster from inside the cummerbund at his waist, untied the garment and took his boots off.

‘Thanks for coming along, Han. I couldn’t have done it without you.’ Hesitantly, she added, ‘I had a good time.’

He seemed startled, his grey-green eyes looking suspicious under his brow. 

'You did?'

'Are you surprised I could have a good time with you?'

He shrugged, giving her a crooked smile. ‘Was afraid I’d overstepped, y’know. In the end.’

They were not going to pretend nothing had happened, then, and the part of her that she had been trying to shush for the past few hours cheered in triumph, but she still didn’t know what to say. Did she agree? Did she deny it?

Before she could reply, he stepped closer and said, ‘Look, I know you only kissed me back ‘cos we were in the middle of a mission, but—’

‘You think I kissed you back because of the mission?’ Her words came out slowly as she tried to make sense of his reasoning.

‘Yeah. That’s what happened, right?’

‘So to clarify,’ Leia said, ignoring his question, ‘you think I would’ve kissed anyone who happened to be on a mission with me?’

Han’s frown became more intense; she could almost see his brain looking for an answer that wouldn’t make him screw up. It didn’t do a great job.

‘I guess?’

She glared at him. ‘Try again.’

Han shuffled until he was right in front of her. His frown had smoothed over, his eyes softer when he looked at her..

‘Okay. So…’

‘Yeah,’ she said, and this time she did manage to stop thinking, because she hadn’t felt the way she did when he looked at her in a very long time, like her skirt could catch on fire and she wouldn’t be able to move a muscle to put it out. His kiss had taken her by surprise at the gala, but this one she expected, and she tilted her head up to meet him. She cupped his neck, fingers threading through the hair at the back of his neck, and stood on tiptoe. One of his arms wrapped across her back, pulling her closer, as his other hand caressed her cheek and jaw, and for several seconds she let her overworked, overthinking, slightly tipsy mind rest as her body took over.

Breathing heavily, she slid her hands down his neck and began to unbutton the front of his shirt while he undid his cuffs.

‘Wouldn’t believe how heavy this thing is,’ he muttered, throwing it on the floor.

‘You don’t get to complain unless you spend a night walking on stilts,’ Leia told him, with a chuckle that died in her throat at the reality of his near-nakedness. He didn’t miss her look.

Smirking, Han kissed her again and tugged at the cap sleeve of her dress before whispering in her ear, ‘This looks real uncomfortable, too. You want to take it off?’

She was very ready to get out of her gown, for one thing because she was afraid they might accidentally rip it and she didn’t want to get Winter in trouble; for another, because the anticipation of his hands and lips on the rest of her body was driving her crazy. Once she took off her dress, though, there’d be no going back in their relationship as it had been. But maybe it was too late for that, anyway.

‘Help me with the zipper,’ she told him, pushing her hair to a side like she had done before they’d left the room so many hours ago. He pulled it down and traced his way up her back with the flat of his hand. He pressed a few kisses between her shoulder blades before peeling the delicate fabric off her shoulders. Leia slid the sleeves the rest of the way off her arms and let the bodice hang down her waist. His hands roamed along her sides, squeezed her breasts gently and swept over her ribs and her stomach, then pushed the skirt down her hips. Stepping out of it when the dress fell on the floor, Leia turned around and wrapped her arms around Han’s neck again for another kiss, her breasts pressing against his chest.

‘I can’t leave this here,’ she said when they broke apart, pointing at her gown. She picked it up and laid it carefully on the sofa, while Han took off his trousers. His arousal was clear through the thin fabric of his underwear. He held out a hand. 

‘C’mere.’ Leia stepped into his arms again, running her hands across his chest as he stroked her back and pressed a kiss on her temple. ‘You still want to do this?’

‘I’m not likely to change my mind _now_ , you know.'

He chuckled and Leia turned them around so her back was to the bed, then she tugged at his hands before sitting on in and scooting up, as she kicked off the bedspread. Han followed her, climbing on his knees and crawling up to her, and she lay down.

‘Didn’t think you’d ever change your mind about us, either,’ Han said, hovering above her with his arms braced on the mattress.

‘I thought that’s what I wanted.’

‘What do you want now, Leia?’ he asked, still not touching her, but the way he said her name—her real name, no ridiculous monikers, no deferential “princess”—was enough of a tease. Who would have thought that her name could sound so sensual?

She ran her hands over his chest, fingernails scraping down his sides. He squirmed.

‘Don’t do that.’

‘You’re ticklish?’ Leia asked, amused, filing that information away for later. ‘Kiss me, Han. Touch me.’

For a very long time, she only heard herself, as his fingers teased her over her underwear, his mouth licked and sucked at her breasts. Then he pushed her undies to her ankles, kissed her thighs, and she dug her heels into the mattress and turned into a heap of mush.

Like a newborn nerf, she sought him out blindly and kissed him slowly when he crawled back up.

‘Do you have condoms?’

Han swore. ‘No. This wasn’t supposed to happen, remember?’

‘It’s okay, check the minibar. These upscale places usually have “intimacy kits”.’ Han looked at her with amusement and she shrugged. ‘Would you rather we discuss how I know this or go check out the minibar?’

She was right. He came back lifting the small box in triumph and leaped on the bed next to her. Grinning, Leia crossed a leg over his waist and straddled him. For weeks, she had denied to herself that she was even attracted to Han, and when that failed, that she’d never sleep with him anyway for a number of reasons, none of which she remembered now as she kissed her way down his torso. She slid off of him again and tucked her fingertips into the waistband of his underwear.

‘Need a hand with this?’

Then it was him clutching at the pillow as she stroked and teased, but she didn’t want to end this round so soon. Pushing his boxers down, she took the condom from his hand and pulled it on. He rolled her on her back and pushed her legs open.

‘You look so kriffin’ hot right now,’ he whispered. He was so much taller; Leia found herself panting and moaning against his shoulder, but he was careful not to put too much weight on top of her. His hands found hers and laced their fingers together as their bodies moved, learning each other’s secrets.

Afterwards, Leia found herself breathing in the salt of his neck, one of her legs trapped between his thighs. She could feel the beating of his heart, still rapid but slowing down, and thought he might be on the verge of sleep. Trying not to jostle him too much, she extricated herself from the bed and made her way to the ‘fresher.

‘Where are you going?’ Han asked, voice rough but definitely awake.

‘I’ll come back,’ she assured him. She really had to pee and she thought it was about time she took off her make-up.

When she came back into the room, Han got up and used the ‘fresher too, and she slid under the bedsheets. Would things be awkward now, she wondered. She’d never had a one-night stand before, and she was sure this would be it, but neither of them had anywhere else to be right now. Even more, they would keep seeing each other afterwards. Leia hadn’t really thought about afterwards, and she was sure he hadn’t, either. That had been one of her reasons not to sleep with Han Solo.

 _You have all night to figure it out_ , she told herself. He walked out of the ‘fresher and gave her one of his lopsided smiles as he joined her on the bed. _And there’s a lot of night left._

* * *

One of the things that Han had forced himself to think of while he had been away from the rebellion was that having sex with Leia Organa was probably not that good. He’d told himself that she might be too proper and stuck-up to really enjoy it, and he would have had to do all the work for minimal compensation. Even that she might not have any experience at all and she would freak out on him, or that she would expect him to give instructions (how was he supposed to know what kind of sex ed princesses got?).

He didn’t think again about those things until later that night, after they had fooled around until he was ready to go for a second round and Leia was lying next to him, a hand on her flushed neck, her breasts rising and falling as she stared up at the ceiling with a dazed, sated look on her face, and he only thought about those things because he was damn grateful they hadn’t been true.

‘You want anything to drink?’ he asked her.

‘Water, please.’

He got two bottles from the minibar and offered one to her before gulping down half of his own.

‘Are you tired?’

Leia arched an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at her lips. ‘Let a girl catch her breath, flyboy.’

Han laughed. ‘Just askin’ if you want to get some sleep now.’

He was tired himself, but he didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. He hadn’t thought about what would happen when they got back to base, but he had a feeling Leia wouldn’t want to be fuckbuddies. It wasn’t as if they could be boyfriend and girlfriend either; he was going to leave at some point. Soon, it’d have to be, or Jabba would have his head. He wasn’t boyfriend material, in any case, so this was going to be all that was ever going to happen between them, even though neither of them had said it yet. Maybe this little romp was the perfect excuse for him to put the rebellion behind him once and for all as soon as they got back to base, before things got too weird between them. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy Leia’s warm body in his arms.

‘I don’t know… do _you_ want to sleep?’ she asked sheepishly.

‘Nah.’ 

Leia smiled. She was more beautiful than ever as she was now, naked, barefaced and with wisps and tendrils of hair coming out of her braids, courtesy of his fingers. 

‘Are you sure?’ she insisted. ‘We have a long way back, and you’ll be piloting…’

‘I’ll be fine. Did I ever tell you about the time Chewie and I spent forty-two hours awake tryin’ to keep the Imps out of Nar Shaddaa?’

Leia sat up straighter against the pillows. ‘I don’t think you did. Wait—do you mean the Battle of Nar Shaddaa?’

‘Yeah, you heard of it?’

‘ _Heard of it?_ Of course I heard of it, Han, everyone in the Alliance heard of it! Where do you think you’re going?’

He’d gotten up again and rummaged through the minibar, fishing out a bag of salt ‘n’ sour warra nuts and another of cheesy crackers. ‘The Alliance is paying, right?’

She tried to give him a disapproving look but failed.

‘Hey, we’ve been barely fed!’ He sat facing her on the bed and opened both bags of snacks. ‘Are rich people always this stingy?’

‘No. Now tell me about Nar Shaddaa.’

Reluctantly at first, he told her what he remembered of the battle from ten years ago. He’d lost several friends—or at least people he trusted and often worked with—that day. After the snacks were gone, Leia lay down on her side under the sheets, folding her arms over a pillow and propping her head up on them. She covered a few yawns with one hand, but still didn’t look like she wanted to doze off.

‘Is this the battle you got that scar on the back of your leg at?’ she asked at one point. When Han looked at her with surprise, she simply said, ‘I heard you bragging about it to Luke, when he was talking about the one he got on his arm with the faulty grav pallet.’

‘I wasn’t braggin’,’ Han said, pointing a finger at her, ‘and I didn’t know you were there.’

‘Sure you didn’t,’ she told him with a smirk. Maybe he did. ‘But when Luke asked you what battle was that, you told him that was a story for another time, which is what you always say.’

‘Didn’t want to give you lot any ideas to make me a commander and whatnot.’

‘But I think you have qualities, you know… We could use you.’

‘I think you already use me enough as it is,’ Han snapped before he could stop himself. Leia pressed her lips and swallowed. Softer, he said, ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean that, alright? Let’s not talk about that now.’

‘Fine,’ she said a little tightly.

If he’d ruined the night already, he was going to shoot himself in the foot.

‘Hey,’ Han said, kissing her shoulder, ‘you can’t be mad at a guy who just gave you five orgasms in two hours.’

‘Four,’ Leia corrected, unflinching. ‘And two of them were consecutive, so that was a merit all of my own.’

‘Maybe you’ll manage six, then,’ he told her, sneaking under the sheets, and he felt Leia’s chest vibrate under his mouth when she finally cracked.

* * *

Leia was feeling drowsier by the second—their last match had left her wiped out—when Han’s voice pulled her back an inch from the edge of slumber.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Mm. Yeah.’ Vaguely, she was wary of what pressing matter he’d try to bring up just as she was so warm and content to just be cocooned in his arms, with her back snuggled up against his chest. He had done an excellent job less than half an hour earlier, jumping over one of their usual bones of contention, but Leia wasn’t sure she could let it go a second time if he brought it up now.

‘Who’s really Targeter?’

Leia turned her head over her shoulder and stared at him, reproachful. He wasn’t supposed to ask. She wasn’t allowed to tell him.

‘Why do you need to know?’

She felt against her body more than saw Han shrug. 

‘I don’t. Just curious, ‘cos you seemed to… know her well. But you don’t have to tell me.’

She contemplated this for several seconds. It was delicate information. Just because she trusted him with her life, it didn’t mean she was entitled to trust him with Winter’s life. Part of her needed to tell someone about Winter, though. Someone who would understand.

‘Promise me you won’t talk about this to anyone,’ she said, turning all the way round until they were face to face. ‘Not even Chewie.’

Han took her hand and kissed it. ‘I won’t tell. A black hole swallow me and the _Falcon_ full if I do.’

Her lips twitched in a brief smile before she became serious again. ‘She’s my sister. Not by blood—but we mostly grew up together. We used to impersonate each other on certain occasions, that’s why I was a good candidate to take her place tonight. She wasn’t on Alderaan when it… but the Empire doesn’t know. She’s been undercover since then. I haven’t seen her in person since… since _before_. She’s all the family I have left.’

His hand caressed her back soothingly. ‘What’s that thing she said before the transmission cut? Something about hitting starblossoms?'

'Oh. It was a code. AT-AV was what I called one of my childhood pittins—All-Terrain Attack Vehicle, because she was a terror when she was little.’ Leia couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the tiny, feisty creature. ‘She went crazy when starblossoms began to fall, always batting them around. She got sick and died when we were ten. Wi—Targeter said she’d be batting starblossoms across the galaxy in the afterlife. I think this was her way of telling me to take care and keep fighting. But I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she meant something else and I’ll probably never know.’

She didn’t mean to babble, but her mind had gone into one of its dark corners unbidden. The brush of Han’s hand up and down her back managed to bring her back, anchoring her to the present.

‘Yeah. But I think you’re right. You are kind of an All-Terrain Attack Vehicle, too.’

Laughing, she pressed her cheek into his neck and held on to him. She was really going to hate when this night ended.

* * *

Han didn’t know how long he’d dozed off when he woke up to what at first he thought was a wet dream. When he opened his eyes, he recognized the room in the dim yellow light of the lamp they hadn’t bothered turning off, and he realized that what was happening down his waist was very much real. That made him come faster than he would have liked, but he supposed it was too late in the night to care.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’ he asked weakly as Leia climbed up his body and propped her chin on his chest.

‘You’ve been very good to me, I thought I should thank you,’ she said, giving him a wicked smile. ‘Sorry I woke you up, though.’

‘Sweetheart, you can wake me up like that anytime.’

She smiled but the gesture seemed to turn slightly sour after a second. Han realized that this was probably going to be the last time she’d had the chance to wake him up in any way.

Leia cleared her throat. ‘By the way… would you mind not bragging about this like you did last time?’

Last time? When had there ever been a _last time_ of her doing that?

‘Last time we kissed,’ she clarified, seeing his puzzled expression. ‘The mission to Uviuy Exen? I had a peppy pilot ask me how would I rate your kissing.’

His eyes widened in interest.

‘When I asked how did she know, she said she heard it from Janson who heard it from you.’

‘I didn’t tell anyone. I swear,’ Han added when she gave him an incredulous look. ‘Sweetheart, are you forgetting who we did tell about it? Luke! That kid doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.’

‘I don’t know… why would Luke tell anyone about that?’

‘Beats me. Him or Chewie, but I doubt Chewie would go blabbing about it. He knows better.’

‘Oh.’

‘So? How’d you rate my kissin’?’ he asked her, letting his hands slide down her back and rest on her bum.

‘I didn’t,’ she said, turning her nose up. ‘I don’t kiss and tell.’

‘But you can tell _me_.’

Leia seemed to think about it for a while, tracing the scar on his chin with her index finger and then outlining his lips.

‘I think I’m going to need more sampling before I can give an accurate rating,’ Leia said, and she replaced her finger with her mouth, sinking her hands into his hair. He was not looking forward to the morning.

* * *

The soft tapping across her shoulders made Leia think of the spa sessions her mother insisted they treat themselves to from time to time. In one of those, they put small cups that suctioned the skin of her back. That wasn’t what was happening now, she realized.

‘Han?’ she asked drowsily as he softly kissed her back.

‘Chrono went off,’ he whispered. ‘We gotta get up.’

‘Oh.’ She regretted having fallen asleep. How long had it been? But she had been so tired; her limbs seemed as heavy as lead and she felt an uncomfortable throbbing between her legs. There was only so much sex you could have in one night.

Han’s rough hand stroked her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers until she felt the first signs of lust creeping in again like a poorly cured cold.

‘One for the road?’ he asked, his hand dipping between her thighs but waiting until she pressed it against her.

This time it was slow and gentle as he took her from behind, still spooning her, one hand clutching at her shoulder and the other helping her reach her climax. A deep sadness had settled in Leia’s chest. Tears sprung up from the corner of her eyes as she screamed; she wiped them off quickly against the pillow.

‘Are you okay?’ Han asked afterwards, his brow creased in concern as he looked down over her shoulder.

‘Yes. Just a bit sore.’

‘Sorry.’

‘I’m not,’ she assured him, meaning it. ‘I should go shower, though.’

‘Alright.’

Leia sat up.

‘I think I said it before but… I had a really good time tonight, Han. You know... I always have a good time around you—except when you’re being an ass.’

‘Can’t blame you,’ he said, smirking, but she didn’t think it was her imagination that he looked a bit sad, too. ‘I had a good time with you, too. Did I say you’re really hot?’

She laughed. ‘You’re pretty hot yourself, hotshot.’

He laid a hand on her cheek and she leaned into the touch. She wanted to kiss him one last time, maybe even suggest he hop into the shower with her, but she argued with herself that it was better if they had some time to cool off. Their mission wasn’t over yet; she had to get her head back in the game.

‘Alright then’, she said, patting his knee and getting out of the bed. 

Leia avoided looking at him as she got a change of clothes from their suitcase and headed to the ‘fresher. A perfunctory examination of her body in the full-length mirror revealed several bruises and hickeys. She’d have to put some concealer on the ones between her neck and the top of her breasts.

Then she got into the luxurious shower and let the rain fall soothingly on her skin.

* * *

Once they were clean and their things packed, they had breakfast brought to their room at Leia’s insistence. It would be a long day, she’d argued, even though Han would have never complained, and they had to recover their energy. The spread of eggs, hotcakes, smoked nerf slices, fruit and caf was more filling than everything else they’d had in the past day. The only thing that would have made it perfect was if they were still naked and in bed, but Leia had come out of her shower fully dressed in one of her white jumpsuits, her hair back into her tight braids, and had the food taken to the table by the sofa. Her casually issued remark about recovering energy had been the only reference to the previous night’s events.

Now, she sat across from Han reviewing their bill in the room’s datapad.

‘Oh no,’ she said suddenly. ‘Oh damn, this is bad.’

‘What is it?’

‘The, uh, the condoms. I’m supposed to account for all our expenses and this receipt says we’re paying for a box of condoms.’

‘An overpriced box of condoms,’ Han said, peering at the screen she’d thrust under his nose.

‘That’s besides the point, Han, I can’t charge the Alliance for _condoms_.’

‘And lube,’ he muttered. Leia groaned. ‘Look, it’s no big deal, just split the bill and I’ll pay for it. We’ll get it on a different receipt that way.’

‘Are you sure you want to do that?’

‘Yeah, why not. Worth every credit,’ he added with a wink. She smiled gratefully at him and worked silently on the datapad, then offered it up for him to pay his part of the bill.

He was eating the last of a hotcake-nerf-egg sandwich when Leia said, ‘I think we should talk.’

Han had been waiting for her to say those magic—or in this case, cursed—words. He had been on the giving end many times, after a one-night stand turned into a regular port visit who asked too many questions about where he’d been and when he’d come back next. He hadn’t wanted to think about giving the same speech to Leia, even if earlier he had thought about turning tail soon after they returned to Obas. Truth be told, he knew Leia would beat him to it, just like last time. Unlike last time, he got ahead of her.

‘It’s okay, I know what you’re gonna say, Your Worship.’

Her shoulders hunched a little at the return of his moniker.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah. You’re gonna tell me tonight was a one-off and we should go back to being just friends ‘cos you value my friendship and whatnot,’ Han said, unable to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

‘I do appreciate your friendship,’ Leia replied, frowning at him in reproach.

Han thought back to the first time he’d made her genuinely laugh after their narrow escape from the Death Star, all the times she had accepted his (through Chewie) invitation to her and Luke for a drink at the _Falcon_ after dinner, the first time she’d mentioned Alderaan to Han, how she sought out the _Falcon_ sometimes when she needed a distraction or just some companionable quiet, all the alleys, warehouses and ditches they’d slunk through or waited at together, the many times she had asked for his input before making a military decision even though it didn’t concern him, and how well they could communicate without any words when they were out in the field.

‘Yeah. I know,’ he told her, one corner of his mouth twisting in a half smile. ‘It’s okay. You don’t wanna be in a relationship with me anyway, and you deserve better than hidin’ around with someone for a screw. So, y’know, if that’s what you want, goin’ back to being friends... not the worst thing, sweetheart.’

Leia was looking at him from across the table with those big brown eyes of hers, her expression unreadable as he talked. His life was a more or less accidental accumulation of half truths. What was one more to it?

‘Yeah?’ she said softly, returning his attempt of a smile. ‘Seems you’ve thought a lot about it.’

Han shrugged.

‘I been doing nothin’ but thinking about it since I left.’ Pushing his plate back, he got up from the table. ‘Well, we better get movin’.’

Leia stood up, too, smoothing out the folds of her beige travel cloak, and they stared at each other in silence for a moment. He didn’t expect her to look thrilled—he would have been hurt if she had, after the night they’d just had—but maybe relieved. She’d gotten some fun and then she’d gotten his word that he wouldn’t seek her out and he wouldn’t make her feel awkward about it (although to be fair, he’d agreed to the same thing after that fateful mission to Uviuy Exen). That was not how she looked, however. Han had the delusional notion that she was disappointed.

‘So… friends?’ Leia asked, her tone almost business-like. 

Han held up a hand, which he would beat himself about later, and after staring at it in confusion for a second, she took it. Not pulling her into his arms was harder than he’d thought as they shook on it.

‘Friends.’

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ did not have an extra-large double bed with a cushy mattress, a shower that you could spin in with both arms outstretched and not hit the walls or a cleaning droid service, but sitting on the worn down accelerator couch in the main hold, Leia felt more like herself than she’d felt for most of the night before surrounded by riches.

She’d come to associate the sight of the freighter’s bulky shape with home, like seeing the snowy top of Appenza Peak had once signalled her arrival to Aldera. As patchy and rough as the ship could be, it had never failed so far in getting her out of a tough spot. In her new life of fleeting military bases that could become compromised from one moment to the next, of collaborators that could turn their back on you for a better price, the _Falcon_ was familiar, safe ground.

Han and her had made the trip from Ganthel to Chandrila on the same rental starship they had come in on from Argai Minor. That way, Alys and Orion, who had come and gone to Brentaal on a passenger shuttle, were less likely to be connected to Mr and Mrs Tannes, who traveled in a personal transport ship.

Conversation had been scarce and unnaturally polite. The scarcity was partly because Leia was exhausted and achy all over, and Han had to be the same; she felt like she was running on fumes. But that was also a convenient excuse, because the awkwardness that had settled between them, just like last time, came from someplace else entirely. It had been a relief to join Chewie and let him and Han chatter away, even if it made her a little jealous of the ease between them. Once they’d hit hyperspace, Leia had gotten in touch with High Command and began to take some notes about the mission on her datapad.

She heard a thud and looked up to find the Wookiee standing in front of her, a mug of steaming Gatalentan tea on the Dejarik table.

[‘For you,’] he growled softly. 

‘Thanks, Chewie,’ Leia said, holding the mug with both hands and inhaling the fragrant steam.

[‘I noticed Han was tired. I see you’re tired, too. You didn’t get much sleep?’]

She avoided looking at him, examining instead the permanent, silverish stamp of a digit on the mug’s side.

‘It was just a long night.’

Chewie set one knee on the floor so she could better look him in the eye.

[‘He didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he? Anything you didn’t want?’]

‘No,’ Leia said firmly. She pressed her palms into her seat and stretched up, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh. ‘I guess I got everything I said I wanted. And so did Han, so, you know… Win-win.’

Her friend tilted his head sideways and made a low warbling that Leia had come to understand translated into a sort of polite incredulity.

[‘I don’t know about you, Princess, but I think if Han had gotten what he wanted, he wouldn’t be sulking alone in the cockpit.’]

He got up to leave before she could decide whether she wanted to ask what he meant by it or not, and Leia thanked him for the tea before he disappeared down the port-side corridor.

Pushing her datapad away, she drank her tea, alone with her thoughts. Back at the resort, Han had told her what he thought she wanted to hear. He assumed that she’d wanted a one-night stand and that, once that was over, she’d want to pretend nothing had happened between them, just like last time. Leia had believed the same, herself. They weren’t right for each other; the very image of them as a couple seemed as unlikely and comic as Chewbacca in a wetsuit. And Han—he’d said it himself, he wasn’t good at relationships. _She_ probably wasn’t good at relationships at the moment, either. But what was stopping them from just seeing each other, from being friends with a physical bonus, since it had already happened? She ran all of her excuses in her head, and they all rang hollow.

_If I get more involved with him and he dies because of me, I might not be able to get up again._

_Yes, but that would have been true months ago, a year ago. That would be true of Luke or Chewie._

_It’s inappropriate, all the hard-earned respect I got as a leader will chip away._

_Why? Because I’m sleeping with someone? Because that someone is a broke smuggler? If that’s what all your respectability is worth, you haven’t done a really good job._

_If we have a fight and break up, he will leave the rebellion._

_We fight plenty already and he always threatens to leave. He might leave anyway, eventually._

_He’s a one-night guy, and maybe he didn’t even enjoy it as much as I did for it to be worth prolonging._

_… Did he look and sound like someone who wasn’t enjoying it?_

And about this last excuse, something Han had told her had thrown her off as much as Chewie’s parting statement.

_I been doing nothin’ but thinking about it since I left._

_If Han had gotten what he wanted, he wouldn’t be sulking alone in the cockpit._

Leia rolled the mug between her hands, the last of her tea gone cold.

 _What_ does _he want?_

Someone who just wanted to get into her bed once wouldn’t look at her the way Han did, or kiss her, or touch her like that, no matter how good they were at it. Things wouldn’t have gotten awkward after a couple of pretend smooches that hadn’t felt pretend at all, he wouldn’t have taken off after she said she wanted to be just friends, and if he had, he wouldn’t have come back.

_Why am I trying to read someone’s mind when he’s got a perfectly functioning mouth and is sitting ten meters away?_

* * *

Three more hours to Obas, that warm-as-rancor-armpit planet where days were longer than they had any right to be. Han got up from his pilot’s seat and stretched. One of his thighs seized painfully; he clutched the back of the chair on instinct and waited it out. The last time he’d had that much sex in one night, he had been in his twenties, and even though it hadn’t been too many years ago, his body still felt the difference in the aftermath. The urgency of wanting to get as much of the other person as he possibly could, as if there was no tomorrow, had been the same, though this time there really hadn’t been a tomorrow with Leia. He could put up with the physical discomfort. A couple hours of sleep would do him some good, too.

Leia was no longer sitting in the main hold; her datapad was abandoned next to one of his mugs. Han paused, groaning inwardly. He always tried to give Leia some privacy when she used the crew quarters, alternating their sleep breaks, but this time they would both have to suck it up. He was too tired to stay awake until they got back to base, and too sore to try to sleep in the cockpit. And it was _his_ ship, damn it.

At least she’d be asleep or pretending to, then he wouldn’t have to act like nothing had happened between them. He had told her she didn’t want to be in a relationship with him, and he’d meant it. He would treat her right, of course he would, but soon she’d see that, outside of a bed, he wasn’t the right man for her. Eventually, he’d screw up and leave and end up hurting her. Leia probably wouldn’t even want to be seen with him; she was still a princess, even if only symbolically. It had been pride, though, what held him back from asking, what had assumed she had prepared the same speech as last time and made him agree with her even before she said a word.

It had made sense not to argue against her the first time, when kissing her and being kissed by her had been nearly accidental, forced by the situation. But it didn’t make as much sense now, when everything they had done to each other had been very intentional. How would it change their friendship if they kept sleeping together? Wasn’t it too late for that? And if he screwed up and left, what did it matter, when he knew he had to leave at some point? She was going to hate him either way; let her have a reason to say good riddance.

He should ask.

He should just ask, and if she showed him the door, then he’d know for sure. And unlike last time, he would close it for good on his way out.

The cabin’s overhead light was on and Leia was there as he’d expected, not lying down but sitting on his bunk. She looked up with a start when he walked in.

‘Uh, hi. You were gonna sleep there?’

‘No.’ She stood up, one hand folded on top of the other. There was a look he knew well on her face: it was the same look she had when she’d made a difficult decision that she believed was for the best.

‘Look, Han, I know you said you wanted to be just friends—’

Frowning, he cut her off, ‘I didn’t say that. I said _you_ wanted us to be friends so I agreed.’

Leia took a breath, and she looked as if she was even surer of what she was going to say next.

‘Okay. So you thought I was going to say I wanted us to be just friends and act like nothing had happened, and you agreed, but I—well, I just wanted to say that… I can’t stop thinking about us.’

Han took a step closer.

‘Me too.’

‘No, but I—I mean, I can’t stop thinking about us... since the ryll cargo mission,’ Leia clarified.

He’d thought there was a chance that it was so, but he was still surprised at hearing her say it.

‘Me too,’ he admitted.

Her cautious smile made an appearance as they stared at each other. He’d made a decision and he should have asked her then what he’d meant to ask two and a half minutes ago, except he wasn’t really good at that kind of thing and he hadn’t really thought of what to say.

He didn’t have to.

‘I know that sooner or later you’re going to leave,’ Leia said. ‘And I know this might be a disaster in the long run, and I don’t know how this could work… but I want to figure it out. If you want.’

‘You know, sweetheart, for all I agree with you that me an’ you—y’know, could be a mess, we sure came to the same conclusion.’

Leia was the one who stepped closer now, until they were only a foot apart, her hands resting lightly against his jacket. Han brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek and bent his head down to hers, finally enunciating his question and waiting before he closed the final distance.

‘Would you like to… not be _just_ friends with me?’

**Author's Note:**

> If you got this far and enjoyed this story, please let me know with a comment or kudos, I’d really appreciate it!


End file.
